


The Best of Us

by kennagirl



Category: CW Network RPF, Kane (Band), Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Military, Flashbacks, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Marriage of Convenience, Moving On, Past Character Death, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-23
Updated: 2013-08-23
Packaged: 2017-12-24 04:54:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/935611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kennagirl/pseuds/kennagirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen should be here. Jensen should be laughing at the stupid jokes Chris tries to pass off as funny. Jensen should be smiling when his mama tells him he needs to eat some of her mashed potatoes. Jensen should be attached at the hip to Jared. Jensen should be here.</p><p>But Jensen's not here. And Jared and Chris are trying to find their way through it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best of Us

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the 2011 J2-Kane Big Bang. Art post, including a mix, can be found [here](http://chef-geekier.livejournal.com/24716.html), courtesy of chef_geekier.
> 
> Update 7/14/14: Mix can be listened to [here.](http://8tracks.com/kennagirl/the-best-of-us)

If Chris was a good son, he would have gone home the second he got off the plane. But Chris was being a good friend at the moment, so instead he called his mama to let her know that he was back in town, but that he had someone else he needed to see first. Of course, his mama wanted to know what was so important that he couldn't come straight home, but when he told her, she went quiet, and told him he was a good friend and that she'd see him at supper time.

So, Chris was a good friend, and being a good friend this time meant visiting the two most important houses in Jensen's life first. But Jensen wouldn't have been a good son at the moment either, so instead of standing next to the little white mailbox with "Ackles" printed neatly on the side, he was in front of a door to an apartment, one that had the name "Padalecki" scrawled on a slip of paper just below the peephole. Jared's aunt's apartment. Though technically it had been Jared's for a little over a year now, since his aunt died and he became an emancipated minor rather than go back to his parents. Still, Chris had been calling it Aunt Ray's place for years, since he and Jensen and Jared would come over to hang out and watch movies their parents wouldn't let them watch and drink before they were legal. Though only a little because Aunt Ray may have been awesome, but she was not about to let them get wasted illegally when she could teach them about responsibility and moderation.

Raynelle Padalecki was the kind of aunt everyone wished they had. The kind that willingly took in her gay nephew because, in her own words, "My dick brother has an extra large stick up his ass and that bitch Sherri has her head up hers looking for another branch." Jared was just the lucky one.

Chris raised his hand and knocked on the door, half praying Jared wasn't home, but knowing that he needed to talk to him, talk to someone who understood, at least a little, what he was going through. If anyone did, it was Jared. Jensen's family might have understood as well, but there was just something about Jared that made it easier to think he'd get it. That same thing was what made this conversation so much harder than the one with Alan or Josh or Donna or Mackenzie was going to be.

The door opened and Jared stood there, his eyes red and puffy, rimmed with tears. He looked around blearily for a moment, before realizing who was standing in front of him. He pulled Chris in close for a hug, practically breaking his ribcage as he did so, as Chris hugged back just as fiercely, gripping the back of Jared's shirt just to have something to hold onto. His own eyes filled with tears which fell at the sound of Jared's first broken sob. He gripped even tighter, letting the sadness spill over at finally finding someone to share it with. They stood there a while, trying to find what little comfort they could in someone who was just as broken as they were.

After a while, both men's tears slowed, but their eyes stayed wet as Jared let Chris in properly and sat him on the couch, fishing a beer out of the fridge for Chris and a soda for himself. As he took the bottle, Chris was about to ask how he got the alcohol when he was underage and looked it still, when Jared said, "Josh figured I might want something stronger than I could get. He brought over two cases and we polished off one that night."

Chris nodded, knowing that Josh had been instructed to look out for Jared while Jensen was gone. He twisted the top off, taking a long slow drink before lowering it to his lap to pick at the label. "How're you holding up?"

"I'm…" Jared trailed off, eyes falling down to the bottle in his hands.

"Yeah," Chris said. "Me too."

"I just— I keep expecting him to walk through the door, you know? Like he's just running late to get over here and forgot to charge his phone and he'll come in and I'll bitch at him a little bit and he'll say something and smile and I'll forgive him because I always do and it'll be just like it always is." Jared's breath was catching. "But he won't, and it's not, and I can't tell myself that, no matter how much I want it to be true. Because then I'll remember and it'll hurt just like it did when Mama Donna called that night and I don't want to feel that way again."

Chris was silent, then took another swig of his beer before saying, "It kept throwing me off the last two days. I'd be packing up to leave and turn to ask Jensen where he hid one of my decks of cards, and remember he wasn't there. Then, when they tried to tell me they had changed their minds and I wouldn't be going home with him, I lost it. I told them I had just lost a brother and unless they wanted me to go Section 8, they would send me with him. When they still didn't want to listen, I told them I held him together while he was fading, I heard his last words, and I'd be damned if I was going to miss his funeral when I had his blood on my hands." He looked up at Jared's sob, then dropped his beer on the ring-stained coffee table and wrapped his arms around Jared. "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking, I—"

"No," Jared mumbled against Chris's chest. "Don't apologize. I need to hear things like that. It hurts but… it's real." He pulled away and looked Chris in the eye. "It's real and I can't go convincing myself that it's not. Just— what did he say? At the end. What did he say?"

Chris cleared his throat of the tears threatening to creep up on it. "He— he said the kind of things he knew each person would want to hear. He called me a jackass and bossed me around. Told me what to tell everyone. Something for Mac and Josh and his parents. And something for you."

Jared's breath drew short. "What did he say for me?" he whispered.

Chris had had to think long and hard about this one, because Jensen had actually chosen something he had said on the bus a year ago and expected Chris to remember. "He told me to tell you that there aren't enough Twizzlers in the world."

While he had some general idea about what that meant to Jared, he wasn't quite expecting the reaction he got from it. A short laugh that became a longer one, hysterical cries mixed with fresh sobs that had Jared curling into the side of the couch. Chris watched him warily, afraid to reach out and comfort him, but fought down his own soldier instincts and pulled him in tight, restraining Jared's shaking form as a mixture of sounds poured from his mouth. Chris had seen shock before plenty of times, but not hysteria, not this emotional outburst that couldn't be controlled. He gripped Jared, not wanting to be forced to hit him if he didn't snap out of it. Fortunately, the laughter soon subsided, so all that was left were the desperate sobs. This he could deal with. This was something he had done himself.

Jared held on for dear life while Chris murmured nonsense to him, tears slipping from his own eyes to land somewhere in the forest of Jared's hair. After a time, the gasping for breath quieted, then stopped altogether as Jared's body finally wore itself out. A few minutes of heavy breathing passed, until Jared pulled away, wiping at his eyes. "Sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry for here," Chris said. "You want to tell me what that was about?"

"Um…" Jared turned slightly red. "Inside joke. Just made me realize all of little things I'm going to miss."

Chris understood. He locked himself in the latrine for a good ten minutes one morning just because Jensen wasn't singing some ridiculous song around the barracks like he usually did. Chris had complained about it to no end before, but damned if he didn't wish he had woken to Jensen's sleep scratchy voice singing about bullfrogs that next morning.

"Listen," Chris started, "I'm going over to the Ackles house in a little bit before I go home. You wanna come with me? I'm sure they'd love to see you."

Jared chuckled darkly. "I'm sure they would, but I'm not ready for that. If I broke down like this with you, imagine what I'd be like with Jensen's family."

"Gee, thanks," Chris muttered. "Way to boost a guy's ego."

"Not what I meant. It's just— if I was this upset with one person who was important to Jensen and wanting to talk about him, I'd be even worse with five. So, thanks man, but no."

"I gotcha. You know you're going to have to see them eventually though, right? And I don't think you want the first time to be at the wake."

"I'll go see them tomorrow," Jared promised. "Right now, I'll try to take Raybud down to the park for a walk, clear my head." Chris smiled at the memory of the sweet old boxer and cotahula mix that had been Jared's sixth birthday present. Most of the neighborhood kids had been at the party and those close to the family remember Aunt Ray's face when Jared proclaimed that he was naming the dog after her, but not really because a boy dog needed a boy's name. She'd looked amused at his logic while simultaneously pissed that he was naming a dog after her. Then again, most of the time when dealing with the three of them, she looked like she enjoyed their antics as she lectured them on why they shouldn't do it.

"How is the old mutt?"

"Old."

"That's what I thought."

Jared laughed, the first real laugh Chris had heard out of him since he got here. "Get out of here. Go deliver your other messages and tell Mama Donna I'll be over for lunch tomorrow. Then go home and let your own mama baby you. I'm betting you haven't been there long enough to satisfy her."

"I haven't been home yet at all," Chris admitted guiltily as he stood and walked to the door. "I wanted to make sure you were okay first."

"I'm fine." Chris looked at him, skepticism plain on his face. "Okay, I'm good enough for now."

"That one I'll believe. But if you're fine, you can call Donna yourself." Jared was about to protest, so Chris said, "Seriously. She'd love to hear from you and you know it. Call her yourself just to let her know you're surviving. You can do it after Raybud's walk, but you need to do it."

Jared scuffed the carpet with his toe. "Okay. I know. Thanks, man." He launched himself at Chris, hugging him tightly one more time.

"It's what I'm here for."

* * *

_The heat was bearable. It almost wasn't, but it was considered cool enough outside that a group was sent out to patrol the surrounding area. Even though they claimed they had plenty of protection inside the walls of the base, it never hurt to know if anyone was coming up close. The platoon was on its fifth of the steadily widening circles around the base, with only another three to go. Every other time they'd done this, nothing had come up, but it was always a game of chance when there might be small enemy camps hidden between the dunes and behind the shrubs. When the grumbling started, those who had been there a few years back told stories of the five man sniper team that had apparently been hiding out for a month a mere quarter mile from the edge of base. They could have started taking potshots at anyone who stepped outside if they wanted to._

_From that point on, twice weekly checks were a regular occurrence._

_Chris looked over at Jensen, who had his med kit strapped to his back over his uniform. The most common reason to need a medic on these checks was to have someone be the voice of reason and tell the more gung-ho men to get their asses back inside before they passed out from heat stroke. It didn't happen often, but FNGs could be pretty damn stubborn about proving themselves. Still, stepping outside base meant there was no telling what could happen, so the full platoon went, just to ensure safety, if only in numbers._

_Chris and Jensen were going home in two weeks, and both of them were eager to be home. Chris missed his bed and his family and his mama's cooking, and Jensen missed Jared. There was no doubt about it. He needed Jared like normal people needed air to breathe, and Jared needed him right back. That was why Jensen was proposing as soon as he got home._

_They kept circling, and they were coming up near a section of dunes that always caused some extra caution. They weren't going through the dunes yet, but they were close enough that everyone sobered a little and paid attention to where they were going and their surroundings. Everyone wanted to pull a little closer together to protect themselves, but they had to stay spread out to follow protocol. Chris just grinned and kept going, trying to project an air of fearlessness that he hoped would be picked up by the rest of the platoon._

_There was a shot. A whoosh. A thud._

_Chris turned toward the noise and waited for the order to track it and find the sniper. Even when someone was shot, it was important to keep a cool head. He waited for Jensen's cry of "move it!" to the people who were doubtless surrounding their fallen comrade and wanted to help, but just needed to let the guy with medical training take care of the injured person._

_The order came. The cry didn't._

_Against his better judgment, Chris looked back. Jensen's med kit was on the ground, but Jensen wasn't the one rifling through it. One of the RTOs was practically elbow deep in it, with obviously no clue what he was doing. It occurred to Chris that Jensen really should have been helping this poor guy._

_Then the RTO moved and Chris saw the head of the injured soldier._

_Abandoning his order and potentially incurring the wrath of the platoon leader, Chris rushed to Jensen's side, grabbing his face and gently tapping it like he'd seen Jensen do too many times._

_"Jen? Come on, man, you gotta stay with me here." Jensen's eyes fluttered slightly. "Jensen?" The movement stopped. "Jensen Ross Ackles, if you don't look at me right now, I'm gonna tell your mama on you."_

_His eyes didn't open, but he let out a loud groan of pain and tried to turn sideways and curl in on himself. Chris held him still, remembering the basic medical training he had gotten at the hands of Jensen because, according to him, "At least one of you assholes that does nothing but carry a gun should be useful."_

_Chris took stock of Jensen's injury and quickly saw what happened. Gut shot, bleeding out fast, and without a real medic close by, there wasn't a good chance that Jensen would be perfectly okay. Part of Chris knew that there was a good chance Jensen wouldn't be okay at all, but he gave that part a good solid punch and told it to shut up because he was trying to save his friend here._

_"Okay," he told the RTO, taking over for what Jensen should have been doing. "You radio the base and tell them to get their asses out here twenty minutes ago." He turned to the platoon sergeant, who was standing by to help as the platoon leader hunted down the sniper. It was probably a good thing Chris disobeyed orders, because he might have strangled the sniper with his bare hands. "You," he barked, "look in the pack and find something to put pressure on the bleeding. If it doesn't slow down, he's through."_

_The sergeant nodded and got to work, quickly finding a large blanket that would have been used to cover an injured to protect them from sand in the air, but at the moment would be perfect balled up and pressed to the bullet hole._

_"I can't get a connection," the RTO said._

_"Well then fucking try harder!" Chris screamed back. Jensen gave an odd little cough at that, one that sounded almost like a laugh. Chris looked down, relieved to see the blanket firmly pressed to Jensen's stomach and Jensen's eyes open, looking up at him through a squint against the sun. "There's those pretty eyes, Jenny."_

_"Jackass," Jensen said, his voice clearly strained. "Glad you listened to me for once."_

_"I always listen to you," Chris retorted. "I just don't always take what you say into account." That got another coughing laugh. "So, what's the damage, doc? How bad do you think it'll be?"_

_"Well, I can't see it, can I? A slow bleed, and it'll be about fifteen minutes. A fast one could be as little as five. How bad is it?"_

_Chris looked down at Jensen's stomach, and more importantly, the blanket pressed to it. The originally tan blanket was now stained a rusty red. He couldn't lie. "It's bad, Jen. Real bad."_

_Jensen nodded his head slightly. "I figured." Chris was vaguely aware of the RTO saying something about seven minutes, but all his attention was on Jensen. "Listen, I want you to do a few things for me."_

_"You're not dead yet."_

_"But if I wait till I'm dead, I won't be able to tell you, will I?" Jensen smirked that little smirk that meant he knew he'd won, even if it was more faded than usual. "Just, tell Mama and Dad that I love them. Make fun of Josh for me. Tell Mac—" He broke off coughing, a little trickle of red coming to the edge of his mouth. "Tell Mac that if she ever joins a punk rock band, I don't have to like it, but of course I'll listen to every song she sings. And tell Jared… tell Jared about the… Twizzlers…" Jensen's voice faded away as he passed out._

_Chris stared a moment. "Jensen?" He shook his face again, but his friend didn't respond. "Jensen?!" He vaguely heard some distant gunfire as he continued trying to wake him, calling his name and tapping at his face while making sure there was pressure on his stomach. When the truck came, they barely pulled him away and had a hard time convincing him that there was no room for him to ride in the back as well as for them to work. When the truck drove off, he took off running after it, getting only a few steps before the sergeant grabbed him, his bloodstained hands marking the uniform Chris was wearing. Chris stopped and turned to face him, ready to lash out._

_"If there are other shooters, you're no good to him dead."_

_That appealed to the soldier side of him, the part that was taking over now, numbing the pain. He would wait with the unit, he would go back with them. If they wanted to finish the check first, as they definitely would now, he would work with him. Then, when he got back to base and showered so they would let him into the med building, he would find Jensen there, sitting up in bed and pissed as all get out that they won't take the fact that he has medical training too into account._

_After finishing the check, he walked back to base with the rest of the platoon, showered, and headed to the med building._

_He's greeted with a sheet over a body and word that he's going home two weeks early._

* * *

Chris ended up giving a short eulogy at the funeral. He spoke of how Jensen was a good friend and soldier, someone you always wanted to have your back. He told the kind of embarrassing stories Jensen might have knocked him one for ever mentioning without the presence of alcohol, but that were needed to show the celebration of life part of a funeral. He also talked about Jensen's love for Jared and how, if it had been anybody else, he would have found the whole thing sickeningly sweet, except he had to admit their love story was amazing. It was the kind of thing found, not in romance novels, but in that little old couple celebrating their 75th wedding anniversary. It was real and perfect and forever and it made Chris a little teary-eyed sometimes how beautiful it was, although he'd never admit that last part.

He felt like someone else would have done a much better job, someone more eloquent, but when he went to sit with Jared and the Ackles family in the front row of the church, Donna gave him a big hug and whispered in his ear, "He'd have liked that."

Chris gave her a watery smile then sat in his seat next to Jared, gripping his hand as tears streamed silently down the other man's face. Jared hadn't spoken all day, and had already declined giving a speech at the funeral when he finally visited Jensen's family three days ago. He seemed to be just going through the motions, not really paying attention to what was going on around him. Chris knew better though. He could see that Jared's eyes never left Jensen's casket, not from the moment he walked into the church. It broke Chris's heart even more to see Jared hurting so bad, but he knew that this was how Jared was dealing with it, whether it was mentally healthy for him or not.

After the funeral was over, a smaller group followed the hearse to the graveyard for the burial. Chris's dad drove the Ackles family, as well as Jared and Chris, in his SUV, trying to limit their stress as they dealt with everything. The burial was a surreal affair. The bugle played as the pallbearers carried the coffin down the green from the car to the gravesite, where a chaplain waited to give a final prayer. Chris kept a hand on Jared's shoulder as they stood, trying to give some small form of comfort while his own vision blurred yet again.

The flag from the top of the casket was removed and folded by the six man honor guard, over and over itself twelve times into a small triangle, each fold having some meaning that didn't matter to the people receiving it. The head of the guard turned and kneeled in front of Donna, presenting it and speaking quite clearly.

"On behalf of the President of the United States and the people of a grateful nation, may I present this flag as a token of appreciation for the honorable and faithful service your loved one rendered this nation."

Donna carefully took the flag, cradled it to her chest, and thanked the serviceman with a hoarse voice. Before he could march away, though, she stated simply, "But this shouldn't be mine." Turning to Jared on her right, she placed a hand on his arm, trying to pull his attention from the casket to her. "This should've been yours."

Jared's eyes drifted down to the folded flag held out toward him, shaking his head gently.

"Yes," Donna said strongly, determination in her voice shining through her tears. "I know my boy. If he'd had his way, you would've gotten this right off, albeit in about eighty years when he got a veteran's send off. So it's yours."

Jared lifted it gently, staring at it as though it would attack him. As soon as he had the flag securely in his hands, he leaned forward and engulfed Donna in a hug. She embraced him back rubbing small circles on his back as she murmured words to him that would probably never be spoken of again.

When Jared pulled back, the honor guard, who had been watching this whole spectacle trying to figure out if he had messed up somehow, asked, "Would you like me to re-present the flag?"

"No," Jared said firmly, speaking for the first time all day. "No, the Ackles' will keep that honor."

The honor guard nodded and returned to his position next to the casket and signaled to the short line of riflemen to begin the three-volley salute. Each shot made them all flinch and Jared held the flag tighter to his chest as the tears streamed down his face. The chaplain ended the final prayer and the mourners began to file out to the parking lot. Eventually, it was just the Ackles family, Jared and Chris. Chris had watched his parents and little sister step away, and knew they were waiting in the parking lot in order to give them this last moment before they all returned to the house for a small post-funeral dinner, provided by the Kane's in the privacy of the Ackles home.

Chris stepped up first, running a hand over the coffin and knocking gently over the spot where he suspected Jensen's head lay. "Save me a seat and a beer, would ya? I think I'll need it by the time I get up there." A hand landed on his shoulder, and Chris turned to see Josh standing next to him.

"Make it two," he said, eyes only for the polished wood in front of him. "See you on the other side sooner or later, little brother." He smirked dryly, though his eyes were damp. "Preferably later."

Mackenzie slipped up on Chris's other side and slid an arm around his waist. He automatically lifted his arm to rest on her shoulder and pulled her in close so she could somewhat rest her head on his chest. It killed him to know that such a young sweet girl was losing her brother like this. "Jen, I plan to do a lot of things that would piss you off," Chris snorted indelicately at that, "but I'm also going to do a lot of things that would make you proud of me. And maybe a few things that would do both at the same time." She smiled fondly. "No matter what, you'll always be in the back of my head, either yelling at me for being an idiot or cheering me on."

Jared came up as well, sidling up next to Mac and mirroring Chris with an arm on her shoulder. He kissed two fingers and pressed them gently to the wood, about where Jensen's heart might be. "I will always miss you and I will always love you. Nothing can ever change that."

Josh grabbed his mother's hand when she came around to join their line. "My baby boy," she whispered, then appeared to have no more words that she could say. Josh squeezed her hand and she squeezed back, their grips so tight their fingers turned white.

Alan Ackles stood to the side, watching the final good-byes to his younger son. When his wife held out her hand to pull him in, he went quietly, focused on the ground in front of him. He drew closer to the coffin and settled between his wife and remaining son, but did not appear to be seeing the casket even as he looked right at it. "I'm proud of you, son," he said quietly. Chris watched as Donna slipped her arm around his waist and began leading him away, back to the parking lot where the Kanes were waiting for them.

With the cars loaded up, they headed back to the neighborhood. Everyone went to their respective houses to change into comfortable clothes, Jared having stored some in Jensen's old room, and then over to the Ackles' for dinner. Chris told his mom he was taking a walk and headed down the street to the convenience store on the corner.

When he lived in California, he picked up smoking as a social activity. He quit when he moved back home, since he didn't want that around his sister. But practically everyone in the Army smoked, and, despite the way Jensen turned his nose at him every time he lit up, Chris found it all too easy to fall back into the habit. Not all the time, but when he was stressed, like when they were heading on a raid or under radio silence, cut off from the rest of the world.

He figured burying your best friend was plenty stressful enough.

Chris stepped into the little 24-hour shop and bought a pack of Marlboros, as well as one of the cheap lighters from the display next to the register. He paid cash and tore into the box as soon as he was out of the store, pulling a cigarette out with shaking fingers and lighting it once he got it in his mouth, leaning against the storefront. The first drag made him cough slightly, seeing as he hadn't had a smoke since Jensen died. That realization made him picture Jen's disapproving face every time he did this, and Chris took the cigarette out of his mouth and crushed it under his boot. He couldn't do that, not with the lecture that had been given to him so many times ringing in his ears and the lecturer not long buried, if they had even finished covering his body yet.

"Not that I mind that you've apparently decided to drop that dirty habit, but that seems like a waste of a perfectly good smoke."

Chris looked to his right to see Sandy watching him, sad eyes sitting on a vaguely amused smile. "Just bought the pack, too. Twenty bucks I'm never gonna see again."

Sandy came up beside him and leaned against the wall. "I heard about Jensen. I'm so sorry. How are you?"

Chris laughed dryly. "I'm buying cigarettes to smoke away my stress from the funeral only to find that I can't smoke them without feeling guilty because he never liked it when I smoked. How do you think I am?"

"Fair point. How was the funeral?"

"You weren't there?"

"You know Jensen and I didn't always see eye-to-eye," Sandy said, eyes on the ground. "I didn't know if I'd be welcome."

Chris sighed. "It wasn't that Jensen didn't like you, it was just—"

"That one stupid thing?"

"Yeah." He scrubbed his face with his hand. "And even when I tried to tell him it was my idea and I told you multiple times that I wanted it, he still decided that because you knew what had happened with Steve and you knew I was 'in a vulnerable state' or whatever kind of phrasing he used, it was your fault. I'm sorry about that."

She shrugged. "Not your fault. He was stubborn, and knew he wouldn't change he mind. I wish he had, but then he wouldn't have been him, would he?"

"No," Chris admitted. "I guess he wouldn't."

Silence settled over them for a few moments, and they watched the cars go by. "So," she said, "what are you up to now?"

"I'm supposed to be having dinner with the Kanes, Ackles, and Jared in a little while. Or, you know, right now." He looked up at the sky, and noticed how dark it was getting. "I should probably head home."

He pushed off the wall and turned away. "Chris?" He whipped back at the sound of Sandy's voice. "This might be in a bit of poor taste, considering. But if you ever need someone, I'm here."

He snorted indelicately. "That's what you said last time, and look how that turned out."

"Yeah," she said quietly, coming up to him and kissing his cheek. "But now we know what not to do." She stepped away from him and went back up the street.

He watched after her, then turned himself, heading for home and what he knew would be a good meal, whether he could enjoy it or not. The walk cleared his head more than he thought it would and he let himself into the Ackles house, smelling chicken coming from the kitchen. He caught sight of Mackenzie and his sister Jennifer chatting in the living room and the men watching a game on ESPN. Any other night and they would have been betting against one another, but they watched in silence. He found his mother in the kitchen, as well as Donna, who was stirring the pasta. As much as his own mother insisted that Donna not have to cook today, Donna obviously hadn't listened and took matters into her own hands.

"Where's Jared?" Chris asked, noticing the largest member of the group was nowhere to be seen.

"He's in Jensen's room," Donna replied. "I think he's just sitting in there looking at things. Can you go tell him that dinner's ready?"

"Yes, ma'am," Chris said. He headed down the hall to the last door on the left, the one that still bore a small hand-drawn sign saying "Jensen's Room: KEEP OUT! (this means you, Mac)" that had been put up by Jensen when he was about twelve years old. Chris had given him so much flak about it over the years, trying to convince him to take it down, but Jensen maintained that it was still necessary. Chris suspected he just kept it there to make sure Mac knew she was special enough to warrant her own sign. Chris got that. There was a reason that the drawing of him and Jennifer, drawn by her at age three, was still taped to the wall above his bed in his room at his parent's house.

Chris knocked quietly on the door before cracking it open to see Jared sitting on the floor, Jensen's closet open and an empty box in front of him, with what looked like the contents of the box spread out. "Whatcha doing?"

"Just looking through some of his things," Jared said. "This was sitting in the closet." He tilted the side of the box up and Chris saw Jared's name written on the side in Jensen's messy scrawl. "There was a letter on it that said it was things he wanted me to have, just in case. Pictures, memories, things like that." He held up a little stuffed teddy bear with blue fur. "I won this for him on our first date to the county fair. I couldn't win any of those games except the stupid basketball toss, and even that took a few tries." He laughed. "He went home with this, and I ended up with three giant bears, a bunny, and a goldfish in a sack. I think he was just trying to impress me."

"He didn't have to try to do that," Chris reminded him. "You'd been impressed with him since day one."

"I know that, and you know that," Jared said, "but he didn't know that back then. He thought he actually had to win me over, when I'd been head-over-heels in like with him for a few years by then. He was my first friend, my first crush, my first everything."

"Believe me, I know," Chris chuckled. "God, you two were so obnoxious sometimes. If it wasn't Jensen calling me every other day to ask my advice about you or worry about you or discuss something completely separate that somehow came around to you, it was you sending e-mail after e-mail asking my help to decode your dates. I swear, if you had just discussed this shit with each other, things would have moved a lot faster."

"Dude, I was fourteen. Actually telling the object of my affection what I was thinking was impossible."

"So what was his excuse?"

"He was emotionally stunted."

Chris laughed, long and loud. Jared eyed him for a moment, then burst out too, big belly laughs that Chris hadn't heard since before they got their deployment information. It felt like a release, knowing that they could move on and think happy thoughts about him.

Eventually, they both ran out of breath, and Chris remembered what he came in here for. "Come on, Donna says dinner's ready."

"Yeah, just help me put this stuff away real quick, would you?"

Chris bent over to start grabbing things, setting them carefully in the box while Jared worked on the stuff that was on his far side. The cardboard box was about half full when Chris found it. Tucked in between the folds of the blanket Jared had sewn for Jensen during his semester in home ec, was a little red velvet box. He knew he had promised Jensen, but he hadn't expected the opportunity to come like this.

"Hey, um…" Jared looked up as Chris dropped to one knee, opening the box and presenting the ring he had never seen, but knew was inside. Jared's eyes bugged out of his face and his mouth dropped open.

"Jared, will you marry me?"

He really should have seen the punch coming.

* * *

_"Hey, Chris?"_

_"Yeah, Jen."_

_"Can you make me a promise?"_

_Chris set down his magazine and rolled over to face Jensen. "What kind of promise are we talking about here?"_

_Jensen twiddled his thumbs, staring up at the ceiling. Almost like he knew Chris wouldn't like what he was about to say. "If you make it home and I don't—"_

_"Dammit, Jen!" Chris threw his magazine down. It spun and came to rest a few bunks down, wedged under a leg of the bed frame. Chris didn't even look. "We agreed. We said none of this 'if I don't make it home' shit. You know why?" Jensen still refused to look at him, let alone answer. "Because we are both going to get home. You hear me? We'll go home, and our mamas will throw us this huge party, and everyone will shake our hands, and you and Jared will have your big emotional moment, and I'll get drunk and hit on Sandy again, and it'll all be okay. Do you hear me?" he said earnestly. "It'll all be okay."_

_Jensen was silent for a time. "But if something does happen—"_

_"I just said—"_

_"But you can't promise that!" Jensen ran his fingers through his hair, gripping at the roots. "It's just like Jared said before we left. This isn't basic. Hell, Lindberg got shot in the shoulder yesterday. Six inches to the right and he'd be going back in a body bag instead of laughing at us from his bed and driving all the base docs to early retirement. I just worry about what could happen. I may not be actively fighting back, but I'm still out there in skirmishes trying to fix you guys if you get another hole where you're not supposed to have one, and that makes me just as much of a target and I'm scared." His voice had petered out into a whisper. "I'm scared. Not of what could happen to me, because that just plain terrifies me, scares me shitless, and it's a different kind of scared that I try not to focus on. But I'm scared of what could happen to my family. If me not being here will completely destroy them. Because I don't want Mama and Dad to grow apart because they can't deal with losing their son, or Josh to fall into a bottle, or Mac to get depressed or join some emo punk rock band, all because I didn't come home. And I— I just can't do that to Jared. I can't. Because that would kill him all by itself. He's already lost his so-called family and now his aunt too and I can't do that to him."_

_Chris looked at the distressed man in front him and thought about his own family. What it might do to them. He was pretty sure they would pull through and felt the same about Jensen's family, but Jensen didn't seem so sure._

_"Listen," Chris said, "I can't guarantee that none of that will happen, but I know that your parents are more in love than anyone I know, Josh can handle almost anything life throws at him, and little Mackenzie is a damn sight tougher than anyone gives her credit for. Hell, she'll probably join that emo punk rock band just to spite you." This got a watery chuckle from Jensen, who had his face buried in his hands. "And I promise you I'll take care of Jared, so you wouldn't need to worry about him. I mean, I'll take care of all of them, but I know you were going to ask me about Jared, right?"_

_"Yeah," Jensen admitted, looking up. "I just don't want him to waste away over me his whole life, you know? I want him happy."_

_"I know," Chris agreed. "I want him happy too. I can't think of anyone who doesn't want him that way."_

_"I just… Part of me wishes I had married him already. That way I know he'd get the serviceman's scholarship, and even if he wasn't covered anymore if I'm not around, at least he'd get the benefits to help cover cost." Jensen lay down on his bed, facing away from Chris. Chris watched him a minute or two, thinking, then spoke quietly._

_"I'll marry him."_

_Jensen rolled over slowly, looking at Chris like some kind of strange animal. "What?"_

_"I'll marry Jared. If you don't make it back, I'll marry him so he can get the scholarship. Then, when he graduates, we divorce. If we want to. If might be worth it to just stick together for the company." Jensen was still giving him that look. "If that's okay with you. I can pretty much guarantee it'll be a marriage in name only, because I want him in school too. But I won't do it if you have a problem with it."_

_"No, it's not that, although it is a little weird. If I were to trust anyone with something like this, something like Jared, it'd be you. It's just— are you sure? Really, really sure that you'd give up a chance at finding someone in those four years? Or even before then. Because Sandy—"_

_"You hate Sandy."_

_"I hate what Sandy did," Jensen clarified. "But, I'm just saying, are you sure?"_

_Chris sighed. "Look, I had my chance with Steve. Don't give me that," he said in response to Jensen's interrupting-face. "Those three years were the best damn years of my life. I got my piece of what you and Jared have, what my parents have, what your parents have. I had my happily ever after. But somebody didn't read the story. So yeah, I'm sure. I'm not expecting anything other than for Jared to go to school and do some good, and if I can give him that when no one else can, then I will."_

_Jensen stared at him. "I don't know what to say."_

_"'I owe you forever,' works, but so will a thank you note." Chris paused. "Actually, that might not be a bad idea. Write a letter to Jared for in case this happens so I can prove I have your blessing. I would hate to get a right hook for my troubles."_

* * *

"Fuck you!" Jared yelled. "What the fuck, man? I mean, seriously, what the fuck? How about you explain yourself?"

"I promised Jensen," Chris explained, rubbing a hand across his jaw. For such a nice guy, Jared could sure pack a punch. "I told him I'd take care of you."

Jared spluttered for a moment. "Take care of me? Are you kidding me? I've been taking care of myself for the most part since I was fifteen years old, and entirely for the past year, and you're supposed to take care of me? What kind of bullshit is this?"

"If you let me ex—"

"What the hell is going on in here?" came a voice from the door. The two men turned and saw everyone else in the house standing in the hallway just outside, watching the spectacle from a safe distance. The only person getting up close was Donna Ackles, and she was livid. "You two boys will sit your asses down in opposite corners of the room quietly for five minutes, and then you will calmly explain what's going on." They gaped at her, causing her to growl, "Now." As they slunk to their respective corners, Chris distinctly heard her mutter, "My god, it's like they're three years old again."

Jared sat on the bed near the closet, his back to everyone. Chris sat on the floor in front of Jensen's dresser and from their reflections in the mirror could see the families watching from the doorway. Nobody spoke. Everyone looked a bit scared at what could cause such a blow up between them, but Mackenzie and Jennifer were also excited that they were in trouble. Donna was still fuming. Chris was vaguely reminded of the time he brought a sixteen-year-old Jensen home extremely drunk, and was somewhat smashed himself. He sincerely hoped this ended better than that night.

"Now," Donna said, a calm voice belying the tension Chris could still see. "What happened?"

"Chris asked me to marry him."

The silence came back.

Chris had a strange, irresistible urge to call Jared a tattletale.

"What the fuck, Chris? Ow!" Mac rubbed the back of her head. "That hurt, Josh."

"Watch your language, Mackenzie Ackles." Josh turned his attention back to the men in the bedroom. "What the fuck, Chris?"

Over Mac's grumblings about hypocritical big brothers, Chris turned to face the room at large, but addressed Jared, "I have not only Jensen's permission, but his instruction to do so."

"Bullshit."

"Look, Jared," Chris ran a hand through his hair. "Jensen knew you wanted to go to Everman. I knew. The whole world knew. He knew you wouldn't really be happy at Sherwood Community. And he knew about that scholarship. The one for the serviceman's spouses? So he bought the ring before he left, and he was going to ask as soon as he came back, then run you to Vegas so you could get started on that paperwork for the payments. Because, above everything else, he wanted you to be happy. He was even talking about how he wished he'd already married you so you would get the benefits if something happened. He worried." He took a deep breath. "So, I told him I'd marry you if something happened. You would have an active duty soldier to put down on your scholarship forms and get a quality education. And he said okay. Because it meant something to you and it meant something to him, and I wish to God it had been him in front of you on one knee with that box in his hands, but you've got me instead. If you don't want me, fine. But I promised Jensen, so don't say I didn't try."

Jared snorted. "Really? Jensen told you to do this. You're gonna stick with that story?"

"Because it's true!"

"Like hell it is!"

"BOYS!"

They both turned to face Donna. "Calm down. Now, Chris, while I don't doubt your best intentions at the moment, it does seem a bit unreal if you think about it. None of us know anything about this."

"He was— he never mentioned it in a call? Or a letter? Something?" Chris was grasping at straws. "He said he would make sure you knew."

"No," Jared spat. "Nothing. He never said anything like, 'Oh, by the way, if I die, you should marry Chris.' That message did not come through."

A gasp came from the doorway, and all eyes turned to look at Mac. "He— he sent me the letter."

"What?" Chris asked dumbly.

"I got a letter from Jensen about two months ago."

"So?" Jared retorted. His eyes locked on Chris. "I bet you just couldn't wait—"

"With another page inside for—"

"—for him to get out of the way—"

"—you if something happened!"

—so you could make your own move."

Several shocked breaths came from around the room. Chris felt his hands curl into fists, and he wanted nothing more than to return the punch Jared had delivered earlier.

"Jensen was my best friend," he said slowly. "My brother. And I would  _never,_ even think of doing something like this unless he okayed it." He drew himself up to his full height, which even below Jared's was something intimidating. "The offer still stands. You read that letter, and if you want to take it, I'll be at home."

The people in the doorway parted and he slipped through them, trying not to brush any of them as he passed. He stalked through the house and out the front door, heading for his childhood home and the bedroom he grew up in.

Not much had changed since he was about thirteen years old. He threw himself onto the same navy comforter on the same twin bed that squeaked when you put pressure in just the right spot. Trophies from his brief stints in various extracurriculars lined the shelves and walls. He'd gone through so many emotional teenage "crises" in this room, but nothing compared to the hurt that he felt at that moment.

Part of him knew that Jared was upset, in denial that Jensen would say something like that ever. But another, angrier part of him couldn't believe Jared had actually had the nerve to say that to him. He knew better, knew what Chris had seen, what they went through, and should know that he'd never do that. The fact that Jared could even come up with that theory was what hurt the most.

Chris stewed in his own thoughts for a while, knowing that Jared was being both coddled and reprimanded for everything that just happened. He honestly hoped Jared would agree to marry him, because he knew what that kid could accomplish if he set his mind to it, and this was the best way to give him a head start. Before anyone started writing vows though, he wanted an apology.

The clock ticked over to ten-seventeen and a knock sounded at the door. Chris called for whoever it was to come in and was only mildly surprised to see Jared standing there sheepishly.

"I'm sorry."

"Good."

"Do you forgive me?"

"Maybe."

Jared came in all the way and sat down on the bed. "I just— I don't know what possessed me to say that. All I know is that one minute, I'm pissed at you for trying to take Jensen's place, and the next I'm saying all these things that I don't mean."

"I'm not trying to take Jensen's place," Chris said as he sat up next to Jared. "I know how much you love him."

"I get that. Logically, anyway," Jared said. "Emotionally on the other hand…"

"Too much too fast? Kind of overwhelming?"

"You could say that."

Chris chuckled. "Imagine how I felt. All at once I've got the ring and the boy and the promise I'm supposed to keep and it felt like 'now or never.' So yeah, I probably could have made that proposal a bit smoother."

"Just a bit," Jared teased. He picked at a loose thread on the comforter, silent a moment. "I read the letter he sent through Mac."

"Yeah? What'd it say?"

"That I wasn't supposed to hit you."

His left cheek burned slightly at the reminder of the punch. "Good job on that one. What else?"

"That he'll always love me, but wanted me to be happy and move on with life. He wants me to do something besides sit around and mope, and a good school seemed like the best option. He also said something about staying in our sexless marriage as long as we want, so at least we would have each other for company. And that if I fall in love again, with anyone, I should go for it. I think he was worried about me getting lonely."

"He was right to do that." Jared looked at him, a question clear in his eyes. "Anyone could see it, with the way you looked at him. He was your whole world. And he had that same look right back at you." He clapped Jared on the shoulder. "He just wanted what was best for you."

Jared nodded and swiped his thumb under the edge of his eye. "So, we're getting married?"

"We're getting married."

* * *

_"I love you too, baby," Jensen murmured into the phone. "Bye." He hung up the phone to the sounds of "Awwwww"s from the guys in line behind him. He flipped them off, stepping out of the way so the next man could make his phone call to someone that was waiting for it. Joining Chris, who had waited after placing a call to his mama, they walked back to the bunkhouse for some relaxation time before lights out._

_"So," Chris began, "my mama wants to know if you're ever gonna ask that boy to marry you. Or are you just waiting till he graduates? Because let me tell you, he'd run off to Vegas with you if you'd ask him already."_

_Chris kept walking, waiting for an answer he was hoping would come. When they entered the bunker and Jensen still hadn't spoken, he turned to see what the problem was. Jensen's face was beet red, his eyes were on the ground, and his hand was rubbing the back of his neck like he did when he got caught doing something he wasn't supposed to be._

_"What?" Chris asked. Then the idea struck him. "Jenny, did you pop the question and not tell anyone?"_

_"Not officially?" Jensen hedged. "I mean, we've talked about it, and I'm pretty sure we both know it's going to happen, but I haven't actually asked him quite yet."_

_Chris stared at him. "Not quite yet? But… You mean you're planning to ask him soon?"_

_"As soon as I get back," Jensen admitted. "I, uh, I even already bought the ring."_

_"You… Jensen! That's great! I'm— damn, that's amazing. So, are you gonna take a lot of time and plan the perfect wedding, or what?"_

_Jensen looked nervous again. "Actually, I was going to do the whole running off to Vegas thing if my mama would let me. And after I explain it to her, she might."_

_Jensen's tone had Chris worried. "Explain what? What aren't you telling me?"_

_"No, it's nothing bad," Jensen backtracked, knowing all too well what scenarios Chris could be dreaming up. "It's just, there's a scholarship. At Everman. Which, I know that's where he wants to go, even if he says he's okay at Sherwood." Chris nodded, knowing the way Jared's eyes had lit up every time he talked about his dream school. "Anyway, if you have the grades, which I know Jared does, and you're an active military member or the spouse of one, you get full tuition payment. And then he could apply for a few more to cover housing and books and he has money saved up anyway that he's planning on using for Sherwood this next year, but I know that he could be great at a real school, and I want this for him. I really do."_

_"Does Jared know about the scholarship?"_

_"Yeah, and he said something about how maybe he'd go back and get a bachelor's degree later when we were married, but he doesn't know I'm planning on making him go while he's still young. He thought I told him to apply for Everman now just to see if he could get in." Jensen shook his head fondly. "He's making plans for a mediocre life until his mid-twenties and I'm giving him a chance right out of the gate. The way I figure it, the sooner he gets his degree, the sooner he can start changing the world."_

_"That, and you'll take any reason to make it official as soon as possible," Chris reminded him._

_Jensen smiled. "Yeah, that too."_

* * *

Chris never thought he'd be twenty-six years old and marrying his best friend's boyfriend the day he turned eighteen, but things happen.

Things like Jared bursting into his room a week before the so-called wedding apparently on a mission to understand something.

"You know you don't have to marry me, right?"

Chris looked up from the book he was reading on his bed. "Yes, I know. I'm choosing to."

"No, I mean, just because you promised Jensen, you don't have to. What if you find someone and you fall in love with them, but you can't really do anything because you're married to me? I don't want to take that away from you."

"You're not."

"How do you know?" Jared ranted, pacing back and forth quickly across the room. "How do you know there's not someone waiting out there for you to come sweep them off their feet or waiting to sweep you off your feet or something else? I wouldn't trade what I had with Jensen for anything, and you deserve to have that kind of love too, and I don't think I can give that to you, at least not anytime soon."

"I'm not expecting you to."

"We should just call it off. I'll find some other way to pay for Everwood, or I'll go to Sherman, and you can fall in love with someone who will love you back and—"

"Jared!" Chris interrupted. "Just calm down. We don't need to call off the wedding. Trust me, I'm not looking to fall in love again anytime soon. I don't really think I can."

Jared half-sat, half-collapsed on the bed next to Chris, shock plain on his face. "What?"

"Do you remember, right after I graduated, I moved out to California to try and start a music career?" Jared nodded. "I waited tables for a few months, trying to get a gig. Then I ran across this amateur night in a coffee shop. It wasn't my usual crowd, but exposure is exposure. So I sign up, and when the time comes around, I do my piece, then get off the stage for the next act. And this guy, he's got this blonde ponytail and flip-flops, pure California material, he grabs me as he's coming up and asks me if I know any George Strait. I tell him of course, so he has me sing with him. I don't think that little coffee shop ever thought they'd hear a song like that, but they seemed like they enjoyed it."

"What'd you play for them?" Jared asked, smile on his face.

"'I Just Wanna Dance With You.' The look on that one girl's face when he started whistling, priceless. She was just so confused. Anyway, so we get off the stage, and he asks me if I want to go dancing with him. I figured, hey, why not, so tells me his homecoming dance is next Friday."

Jared snickered. "Homecoming dance? You scored a date with a high schooler?"

"He was a senior!" Chris defended. "It's not like you gave Jensen any grief for dating a high school student when he had already graduated."

"Yeah, but I'm biased."

Chris considered this for a moment. "Yeah, you are. So he gives me directions to the school and tells me to meet him there at seven, tie optional but he thinks I'd look hot in one. Then he leaves, and I'm left wondering what just happened."

"But you went anyway."

"Curiosity killed the cat." Chris shrugged. "I couldn't not go. I wanted to find out his name, and that was the only way I could think of to get it."

"He didn't even tell you his name?"

"He told me later that he thought it would grab my interest. Now shut up for a second and let me tell the story."

Jared held his hands up in placating gesture and motioned for Chris to continue.

"I show up at this high school in Pasadena, and he's waiting right outside. He tells me about how the last guy he was seeing, the one who he'd been planning on going with, had dropped him a week before because he got the homecoming queen to say yes when he asked her. And he wasn't trying to get the guy jealous to get him back, because they weren't serious, but he had already bought the ticket and wanted a hot guy on his arm when he walked in. I told him I'd do it, but I only went to dances with someone if I knew their name. So Steve and I went to the dance."

"Steve? Is that the Steve that came to visit a few times when you came home?"

"Yeah," Chris admitted.

"Why didn't you tell me he was your boyfriend?"

"Because my parents had warned me against telling your parents since they didn't know how they'd react. It wasn't that they cared what your parents thought, but they knew I'd want to still see you once in a while, and if your parents knew I was seeing a guy, they'd probably forbid me hanging with you for fear of scarring your impressionable mind or some shit."

"Well that worked out great, didn't it?" Jared said, an unpleasant twist to his smile.

"Worked out just fine from my view," Chris said. "Steve and I dated all through his senior year. I kept up my job as a waiter and picked up gigs when I could, and he worked on passing his classes. His parents were always inviting me over for dinner, think they were worried I didn't feed myself right when I was working all the time. They appreciated that I let Steve focus on school and was supporting myself because apparently he'd brought some real dicks home to meet them. He used to tease me that if we broke up, they'd keep me instead of him." Chris chuckled to himself for a moment at the memory. "When he graduated, he moved out of his parents' house in Pasadena and into my craphole apartment in LA, got a job at some little office filing papers during the day while I waited tables, and we got gigs together every chance we got."

"Sounds good."

"It was good," Chris said, smiling as he thought about those days. "We fought sometimes, usually over our latest music project, and we were living paycheck to paycheck, but it was good. I don't know how else to say it, but it felt like happily ever after. We both wanted more, but if we ended up staying nobodies together, I would have been okay with that."

Both men were silent for a while, lost in thought. Eventually, Jared piped up. "What happened?"

Chris took a deep shuddering breath. "We had been together about three years. Heading home after a late show where we'd killed it. This guy had come up to us afterward and said he worked for a producer and if we had a demo, he'd put in a good word for us. I'd had a few beers, but Steve was still underage so he was driving back. About ten miles from home, an SUV came out of nowhere, lights off, and slammed into us as we drove through an intersection. I woke up in the ambulance, passed out, then woke up again in the hospital. Steve's dad was sitting there, said something about not knowing who to contact for my family and who needed to be called. I just wanted to know how Steve was and they had to come in and sedate me so I would calm down. The next time, it was Steve's mom who was waiting. She told me that Steve and I were lucky to have been wearing our seat belts because otherwise we'd probably be dead. The drunk driver that hit us hadn't and had been thrown into his windshield. I asked her where Steve was, and she—" His breath caught, and he felt an arm slide around his shoulders, Jared trying to comfort him with his presence. "She said that the car had been completely crushed around him, that he was in a coma. There had been some internal bleeding, but the doctors were optimistic. I just remember that I hurt all over and all I needed was Steve, to see for myself that he was still breathing." Chris swiped at his tears, still angry over what had happened. "I had a few bruises from being knocked around and some cuts from the windows shattering, but nothing bad, so they released me after two days. I sat next to Steve's bed for three weeks. Waiting. I stayed with the Carlsons because their house was closer to the hospital. One night, we got a call. They lost him. Out of nowhere, gone."

He had been trying to fight off the overwhelming feeling of loss at relating the events again. The only other person he told was Jensen, and that had been right after he came home from California. He had just told his family that Steve was dead, but he had a feeling that Jensen had filled them in on the rest. Chris felt his heart breaking all over again, but he held it together as best he could.

"I came home. Nobody knew anything, just that I had stopped calling for a month, and then I was moving back in. I told Jensen everything and he took me to some party held by someone on the high school basketball team. Plenty of alcohol. I got really drunk, trying to forget. You know how Jensen just didn't like Sandy most of the time?" Jared nodded, confusion showing in his eyes. "It's because I got drunk enough to tell her what happened with Steve, and then drunk enough to ask her to sleep with me, and she did."

Jared's eyes widened. "Really? That's why?"

"Yeah. We woke up the morning after, and I was upset with myself, and she couldn't believe she'd done that, but we knew it was just a stupid mistake on both our parts and left it at that. She's Jennifer's best friend, so we knew she'd be around the house and neither of us wanted it to be awkward. Jensen just… never forgave her. He had this idea that she took advantage of me."

"Wow."

"Yeah. If nothing else, Jensen was a damn good friend, always looking out for people."

Jared was silent for a while, then said, "Did Jensen ever tell you about our someday book?"

"No," Chris said, both bemused and relieved at the change of subject. "What is it?"

"It was this notebook that we kept, with all the things we planned to do someday, big and little. Only about half of them were actually doable, but some of them we were serious about. Getting married, getting another dog, putting together one piece of Ikea furniture. That kind of thing."

"Did you make much headway on it?"

"A few things," Jared said. "We got the weekend away together, and the camping on the living floor in a pillow fort." Chris laughed at the mental image of the two of them curled up in pile of blankets and couch cushions watching movies. "But there's so many things we'll never do. And that's the worst part."

"I know. I was going to take Steve ring shopping the next day and ask what he wanted me to use to propose. And that producer that ended up with our demo called me a few weeks after I got home, wanted us to come in and record another one for him." Jared grabbed Chris and wrapped his arms around him, nestling his face into the crook of his neck.

"It sucks, you know?" Jared said, tears dampening Chris' shirt. "It really does. You and I, we fell in love and we don't get to have them. We get each other instead. Not that I'm saying I don't like you, it's just… You're not him."

"Yeah," Chris said, pulling him closer and clutching on to what he still had. "I know exactly how you feel."

* * *

_It was dark when Chris woke up. Whether it was early or late was hard to tell, but he knew it was dark. And dark meant he should be sleeping, so he rolled over in his bunk to continue doing just that, when he heard the noise again. He sat up, scrubbing his eyes as he tried to peer through the blackness. Tuning his ears to the noise, he found it repeating and coming directly from his right, nearby. His soldier brain catalogued all this, but then the human part of him kicked in, recognizing the sound as the muffled crying that occasionally happened when the stress hit an all-time high for someone. And from his right meant—_

_"Shit, Jen…" Chris crawled out of his bunk and sat on Jensen's. "What's wrong?"_

_"I miss him." Barely a whisper in the quiet room, not nearly loud enough to be heard beyond the confines of the bunk, but plain as day to Chris, who had expected something like this._

_He quickly put his plan into motion. "Budge over." When Jensen didn't move, Chris repeated the command and lay down on top of the blanket as soon as there was space, face-to-face with Jensen. "Okay, so when you're upset about whatever, what does Jared do to calm you down?" Even in the pitch black, Chris knew the other man well enough to know that he was getting an I-don't-know-what-you're-talking-about look. "Cut the crap, I know Jared has some secret power over you that I could never hope to have that always keeps you chill, even after that incident with Sandy last time when you were about to go tear her head off." He felt Jensen flinch slightly at the reminder of how he had acted that time. "So, what does he do?" Jensen was silent a while, then mumbled something. "What? Didn't catch that."_

_Jensen straightened up looked Chris dead in the approximation of his eyes. "I said, he sings to me."_

_Chris remembered at the last moment that they were in the bunk house and laughing loudly during lights out was a good way to get your ass kicked come morning. So it was with greatly restrained mirth that he responded, "You mean tries to sing, right?"_

_Jensen smacked Chris's shoulder, but Chris knew he was smiling that smile, the one he only got for Jared. "Yeah. He can't carry a tune in a bucket, but he tries. That or he tells me stories. His day, favorite memories, something made up on the spot, pretty much anything to get my mind off things."_

_"Well then, how about earlier today, when I taught a few guys here a thing or two about poker?" Chris launched into a tale of his antics, starting with a nugget of truth about winning the round and embellishing greatly as he felt the situation called for it until it seemed unreal. He would have done any fisherman proud. "Did that help?"_

_"Not really," Jensen replied. "But thanks for trying. That means a lot to me."_

_"Anytime, darlin'." He pressed a kiss to Jensen's forehead, something he'd been doing to comfort him since Jensen fell off his bike at age six, tore his knees up, and couldn't stop crying. Jensen had decided then that if his mom could do that and it made him feel better, why couldn't Chris? Chris had given in, despite his ten year old indignation at having to kiss it better. But when Jensen slipped again on the walk home and landed on his bad knees, Chris wiped his tears and kissed his forehead just to shut him up._

_Fifteen years later and he found it was a habit not easily broken._

_Chris pulled away from Jensen and climbed back into his own bed, pulling his blanket up for a few more hours of shut-eye. Before he could sleep, though, he had to know, had to make sure Jensen would really be okay. "Was it the story? Because I could try my hand at singing horribly if that would help."_

_"Nah," Jensen said, his voice still tight. "You're just not him."_

* * *

The picture on top of the entertainment center was simple. Jared and Chris were holding hands, smiles on their faces, both wearing white dress shirts and jeans. While their mothers would have rather had a real wedding, they convinced them that time was of the essence for the scholarship and had a short ceremony in front of a Justice of the Peace.

Jared was sitting at the table in the living room, filling out the last parts of the scholarship application. He had talked with the ladies on the committee often, gathering as much information as he could. It turned out that he had to have the marriage certificate in order to get the application in the first place, but he sweet-talked the secretary into at least telling him how much competition he had. There were ten spots open, but when he first asked for information, only five applications had been turned in. Considering that the applications were available year-round, Jared figured he had a very good shot at being granted one of the spots. He just had to get the application turned in sometime in the next three days.

Chris was working around the room, trying to move his stuff into Jared's apartment. He felt that it was time to get out of his childhood home again, hopefully for good this time. Besides, if they were married, it would look better for all the people on the outside if they lived in the same place. There was some question of where Chris would sleep and keep his stuff, especially since they knew certain appearances would have to be kept for company. Most of Chris' clothes had been put in with Jared's but he planned on sleeping in the other bedroom unless they had someone stay the night. Even in that case, Jared's bed was huge, and they had shared a few times recently anyway, usually when one of them had a nightmare or just couldn't sleep.

"Three more boxes," Chris groaned. "Remind me again why I decided to bring all this crap?"

"You wanted all the comforts of home?" Jared said, not even bothering to look up from the papers. Chris had been complaining most of the day and Jared had reached a point where it was easy to tune him out.

"What was I thinking?" he muttered, lifting the next box to move it from right inside the door to Jared's room. As soon as he lifted it, he saw the name scrawled on top of the box under it. He'd forgotten he brought this one, too. "Hey, Jared?"

"Yeah."

"I think you should do this one," Chris said, switching his box with the one labelled for Jared. He carried the reminders of Jensen over to the table and set it down gently. "Anything specific for these?"

Jared reopened the box that he hadn't seen since Chris proposed to him. That was a month ago, and he still wasn't any more ready to see the contents than he had been the previous time. A teddy bear, a badly sewn blanket, a stack of movie tickets paper clipped together, all with no significance to him, but meaning everything to the man sitting across from him. Jared and Jensen's love for each other, condensed into a cardboard box. Chris picked up the three ring binder, turning it over in his hands.

"That's the someday book," Jared said.

Chris held it up in question. "Can I—"

"Go ahead."

Chris started flipping pages, occasionally chuckling at what he found there, and often feeling his heart clench at what should have been. "A chicken ranch in Idaho? Why in the hell would you want a chicken ranch in Idaho?"

"Why wouldn't we want a chicken ranch in Idaho?" Jared deadpanned. Chris stopped and thought, utterly nonplussed at this turn of logic. "I barely even remember. Like I said, only about half of them are actually doable, the other half are just wild fantasies we came up with when we were bored. You should see the one where we're actors on a TV show that shoots in Vancouver."

"Like that would ever happen," Chris teased. "They like to put pretty faces on TV."

"Ouch," Jared said, handing resting over his heart in mock surprise. "That really hurt me. Cut me to the core, it did."

"You know you're hot stuff, Padalecki."

"Padalecki-Kane," Jared corrected. "God, it'll take some getting used to that. Imagine me having to go back and rewrite my name on every paper I turn in because I forget the dash-Kane part."

Chris stuck his tongue out at Jared. "I didn't have to change my name," he said. "I'm so glad I'm the man in this relationship."

Jared crumpled up one of the spare pages he'd been using to draft his application essay and tossed it at Chris. "Ass."

"Sticks and stones, o husband mine," he said, continuing through the someday book. One page toward the end caught his attention. "Start a family. You and Jen wanted kids?"

"At this point, it was still kind of in the abstract sense, but yeah, we thought about it. Talked over potential options. We both liked the idea of having the kid be ours, but supposedly having a surrogate can make things complicated, so we decided to adopt instead."

"I see, very abstract."

Jared blushed. "Shut up. It was something we both wanted, so we gave serious thought to it. We wanted a little girl, preferably a baby so we could raise her, or even something where the mom decides with plenty of time to go that she wants to give it up so we can meet her. But really, we just wanted a kid to call our own."

Chris looked at the page bearing the dream. "You two would have been great dads." Jared smiled sadly, and Chris closed the notebook, setting it to the side of the box. He grabbed a movie with a young brunette girl and two Buckingham guards on the cover and examined it. "'What a Girl Wants'? What's this about? Doesn't really seem like your kind of movie."

"It's not," Jared admitted. "But it's kinda special to us." Chris gave him a look that made it clear he needed some elaboration. "Jensen had rented some action movie and brought it over here, but when we opened the case, it had this movie instead. He was all set to take it back, but I told him there was no point when we could watch this one, then take it back and get the other one and watch it too. Two for the price of one, you know? So we sat on the couch, and about halfway through, he kissed me for the first time. We both missed the rest of the movie, me because I was so excited, and he told me later that he was freaking out that I was freaking out. After we actually got together, we watched it again to see what we missed, and again, and it just became ours. There's this one part, where the mom and daughter have a special way of saying 'I love you,' so we took that and made it for us."

He looked at the fond smile on Jared's face. "You two were such girls, you know that right?"

"What-the-fuck-ever, Chris," Jared said. "You and I both know you're a sucker for a good love story."

"Only in a country song," Chris said. "The right lyrics and the right melody, that's magic. And I'll deny I ever said that if anyone asks."

"Your mushy side is safe with me," Jared promised. He looked at the box. "Just put it in my room for now. I'll sort it all out before I go to bed tonight." Chris nodded and loaded everything back in, carrying the box into the bedroom that Jared had slept in since he was fifteen and suddenly on his own. He set it on the bed and looked at the walls, pictures of Jared's teenage years pinned up everywhere. There were some of the three of them, and one of a much larger group at Jensen's high school graduation. On the bedside table, a framed photo of Jared and Jensen with their foreheads together, looking into each other's eyes as they sat on the concrete of the tennis courts at the high school. Neither of them had ever played tennis, but the courts were always unlocked and made for a great place to hang out when they just needed to get away. Chris had been with them that time and taking an intro to photography class at Sherwood, so he was toting his camera everywhere for potential shots. He had given each of them a framed copy of that shot when he passed the class, and he knew that Jensen had kept his in the same spot in his own room, as well as a shrunk down photocopy in his wallet when they were overseas. Chris turned his back on the force of the memory and left the room.

"Hey," Jared said from the door as he unhooked a leash from the wall. "I finished the application, so I'm going to take Raybud for a walk and drop it in the mail on the way. I'll be back in about an hour."

"Sounds good," Chris said as Jared clipped the leash to the old dog's collar. He handed the envelope to Jared and waved as he shut the door behind him. He knew Jared would walk Raybud straight to the cemetery, a fifteen minute walk at most. He'd spend half an hour sitting with his back against Jensen's headstone, talking about his day. Part of Chris knew that it probably wasn't healthy for Jared to keep doing that. Jared probably knew it too, or would after he started classes for his psychology degree so he could be a therapist. But he also knew that it kept Jared from losing it completely. He may never be truly happy again, but Chris would make sure he was okay.

* * *

_Chris tossed his bag into the cargo hold of the bus, shoving it as far back as it would go to make room for the ones that still needed loading. He knew the rules for packing: only take what you have to and nothing you can't bear to leave behind, if necessary. As a result, his bag was fairly small compared to some of the others. A few decks of cards, a well-worn paperback novel, and a photo of his family from a stack of identical copies back home. He figured that would keep him sane for the twelve months they'd be over in that hell-hole._

_Keeping Jensen sane would take an entirely different bag of tricks._

_He wandered around the back end of the bus to the other side, finding Jared and Jensen standing inches apart, Jensen's duffel at their feet. Their voices were low, not that much could be heard in the chaos of the surrounding area, but he could understand the need for the added level of privacy. Even so, he had a good feeling what the conversation was about. It was probably along the same lines as the one he had with his mama before he left that morning, as well as the dozens of exchanges happening around them._

_The talking part of the conversation stopped abruptly when Jared threw himself at Jensen, wrapping his arms tight around him. Jensen responded in kind, hands coming up to soothingly rub Jared's back. They stayed like that for several long moments, then pulled slightly apart. Foreheads pressed together, they exchanged a few more words, followed by a short kiss, then looked over to where Chris was standing, patiently allowing them their time._

_Jared broke away and opened his arms, yelling, "Come on, Kane! You're not so ugly I'd deny you a proper good-bye." His smile was bright, but not quite as genuine as when he was truly happy._

_Chris strode forward and accepted the hug, clapping Jared on the back. "Well, Padalecki, we can't all be pretty like Jenny over here, now can we?" That got the desired laugh out of Jared, as well as a sharp poke to his ribs from Jensen. Chris pulled away and gave Jensen a look. "What? We all know it's true."_

_"Shut up," Jensen complained good-naturedly. "Can't believe I'm stuck with your ass for the next twelve months. Gonna drive me crazy two weeks in."_

_"Jensen, you've known him for twenty-one years," Jared reminded him. "If he hasn't driven you crazy already, I doubt it'll happen anytime soon."_

_Chris reached up to ruffle Jared's hair. "Knew there was a reason I liked you."_

_As Jared tried to smooth his hair down, the officer in charge called for final load-up within the next five minutes. Chris knew that meant they had to get on board in the next four minutes, and Jared and Jensen both showed the same understanding. Chris nodded to Jared and grabbed Jensen's bag to stow it, giving the two a few more moments alone before leaving. He got it shoved in the cargo space mere seconds before it closed, then headed back over to pull his friends apart if need be._

_The first thing he heard when he rounded the end was Jensen's earnest statement of, "I'll be back, I promise."_

_Jared shook his head vehemently. "No. Don't make promises you can't keep. This isn't basic. There will be people shooting back at you, and crazies trying to blow you up, and—"_

_Jared was cut off when Jensen kissed him firmly. Chris had walked in on them in all states of indecency, including once at the moment of climax, but this seemed more intimate than all of them, and he had to look away. He knew it was over when he heard a barely suppressed sob come from Jared. He looked back to see Jensen cupping Jared's face in his hands._

_"I love you a million Twizzlers, okay?"_

_Jared chuckled wetly. "And I love you a million rainbow stripes." Jensen wiped the tears running down Jared's cheeks with his thumbs and placed a final kiss on his forehead._

_Chris stepped forward to pull Jensen away, nodding a final good-bye at Jared. The motion was returned, but Jared's gaze quickly returned to Jensen, who was practically walking sideways as he attempted to move onto the bus and keep an eye on Jared at the same time. By the time they got settled and on the road, Jensen had been staring out the window for a good ten minutes._

_"So," Chris started, "a million Twizzlers."_

_Jensen let out a short laugh, and turned to Chris. "No," he responded, his eyes shinier than usual. "There aren't enough Twizzlers in the world."_


End file.
